


Citrus Soap

by charmingotter



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jane Doe and Kurt Weller, i dont even know how this happened, idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 21:16:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4850837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmingotter/pseuds/charmingotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane doesn't like the soap in the safe house and Weller tries to fix this little problem and fails until he finally takes her with him to buy soap</p>
            </blockquote>





	Citrus Soap

**Author's Note:**

> How this happened, I have no idea. I just really liked this show. So much apparently, that I felt I needed to write fanfiction for it only hours after having watched it for the first time....

She didn’t know what it was about her soap but it made her uneasy somehow. And the smell stuck to her. It was almost nauseating. She really couldn’t understand it more than anything else that had happened the last few days. This seemed fixable though. Just use a different soap. So that was what she asked for the next time Weller came around the safe house. She would have asked the guys who had been bringing her food, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to ask them. She could barely ask them for food. They made her uneasy too.

“What was that?”He asked, setting the bag of food he had brought on the counter. 

“I need new soap,”she repeated herself. 

“Why?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

She shrugged, looking away from his stare. “I don’t like it.” She didn’t specify why.

He nodded. “Okay. I don’t suppose you remember what you do like?”

She shook her head. “No.” She didn’t remember anything. This would be a lot easier if she did, but the fact was she didn’t. “Just nothing that smells like flowers,”she told him. The soap she had now smelled overwhelmingly like lilac. 

He nodded, setting a box of food in front of her, seemingly making a mental note of what she had said.

“What is this?”She asked, peering into the styrofoam box. 

“Italian. Specifically, spaghetti.”

She poked at it with her fork. Seemed alright. Though it wasn't like he had made her eat bad food yet. He didn’t even make her eat the food he said was good. All he ever really said was, “If you don’t like it, we can get something else.” She liked that, that she had the option.

They had fallen into this pattern easily. After a case they would eat dinner together, his pick since she really had no frame of reference. She wasn’t sure how it had happened, but she thought it was better than being alone. Neither of them talked much though. Which didn’t seem to bother him but sometimes she felt like she was suppose to say something. Like he was expecting her to say something when they did this. Was he expecting her to fess up to something or give him some piece of information she didn’t have? So, instead of speaking she’d take another bite of whatever sort of food he had gotten and not say anything. 

 

A few days later he came back. This time with food and soap. “Smells like apples,”he told her, holding the bottle up for her to see. 

She took it from him, taking a sniff. She didn’t actually know what apples smelled like, but it was better than what she had now. She nodded. “Thank you.”

“I got burgers again,”he said. “Pickles and tomato only, right?”

She nodded, they had eaten burgers before and she had liked them. He had gotten all the toppings on the side so she could try them. She had liked pickles and tomato best. The rest she didn't mind, but didn't want them again. All except the onions anyway, she hadn’t liked the smell of those. 

They ate quietly for a moment before Weller spoke up. “I’m always paranoid that I’m going to end up getting you something you’re allergic to,”he half laughed. “I’d hate for a peanut to be the thing that gets you after everything you've been through.”

She smiled. “Well, so far so good.”

He laughed. “I haven’t killed you yet, so, yeah. So far so good.”

 

She used the apple soap in the shower that night. Doing so very gently on her freshly tattooed skin. It wasn’t as bad as the flowery soap from before but the smell had started to give her a headache. She told Weller this, including that it gave her a headache. He sighed, “Guess I’ll just have to try again.”

 

“Pomegranate and mangos.” He had handed her the bottle of soap. “Try that one.” So she did. It was as bad as the apple one and the smell of this one stuck to her worse than the other two. “You’re just going to have to come with me this time.” Weller finally gave up the next time. “Come on, get your coat,”he added, already walking towards the door. 

“I didn’t know you had a car,”she commented quietly, watching the dark streets go by in a blur. 

“It’s not really mine,”he said making a vague hand gesture. “I’m just borrowing.”

“Who’s is it then?”

“The FBI’s. They just don’t know I’m borrowing it.”

“I think that might be called theft,”she teased. 

“Shhh,”he said, smiling. “Don’t tell them that.”

 

“I’m starting to get a headache from all these smells,”Weller complained as he sniffed yet another soap she held out to him. 

“I like this one,”she said, taking another whiff of the citrus one. It smelled oddly familiar too. He pursed his lips. “What?”She asked at his odd expression. 

“Nothing. That’s just the one I use.” He shrugged, looking away from her. 

Her eyes flicked from him to the soap she liked so much. Finally, with only a hint of a blush on her cheeks, she just set it in the basket as discreetly as she could with the few other things she had picked up and wanted. His lip quirked up at the side but he didn’t say anything else about her choice in soap.

“Alright then,”he said. “Anything else?”He raised an eyebrow. 

“No,”she shook her head. 

“Right then. Let’s go.”

 

“How’s the soap?”He asked the next day.

“Great. Not even a headache and now I smell like oranges.” She smiled. She really did like it. She wasn't going to think about the fact that she chose the exact same soap he used though. It got confusing that way. It was better to just not think about it.

He laughed. “Yeah, I suppose you do.”


End file.
